


All about Love, the Sickness and the Beauty.

by opkil



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1827862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opkil/pseuds/opkil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of 7 stories, each exploring a different, but real aspect about putting yourself out there. Love is so much more than just 'I love you', and marrying your 'one' and happily walking into the distance.<br/>Love is about sacrifice, it's about a pain of hurting so bad. It's about knowing what it means to give up one's very self for someone else, it's about understanding the reciprocally and mutually beneficial aspect of it.</p><p>Love is a beautiful thing, but so many times, it is mutated into a destructive force of nature. </p><p>Love, is a force much stronger than the two people that share it.</p><p>Love is, love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mortality

** _Mortality_ **

"Would you buy me some fried chicken from Kentucky's?" her soft voice said on the phone. So obviously weakened and withered. It made me a bit sad, to hear her voice. 

"But my love, the doctors have me watching your cholesterol in whatever foods I bring you!" I exclaimed. Though honestly, it wouldn't matter too much any more.

"Just a bit?" she begged.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do."

I hung up the phone. She was such a trouble, even now. 

I looked at my watch. It was 4 pm, nearly time for visiting at the hospice. I drove past the streets that we both came to know so well and so intimately. The sky was a warm glow of orange, and the temperature was warm, but not stifling so. The air-conditioner of the car was cool, and that was a good feeling.

___________________

_"I'm so excited, Charlie! Our very own home! Our very own little nest of our own!" said Claire. She was clearly excited, as we drove along the street into the car-park._

_We had gotten the house keys from the previous owner just 2 days ago, and we were packing our things from my parent's place._

_She almost immediately jumped out the car the moment I parked. She was as active as a 5 year-old in a toy-store. Almost more energetic, even._

_"COME ON, WHY ARE YOU SO SLOWWWWW?" She moaned._

_"Okay, I'm coming, I'm coming!" I shouted after her. She was already at the lift landing area, pressing the button to go up like a mad gamer on a Nintendo console._

_____________________

I walked into the ward, seeing families visiting their own committed. There was an odd mix of melancholy and relief. The final days of their loved ones, but it was good to see them again. I held my packet of fried chicken as I went into one of the private wards. I spared no expense for Claire's comfort.

I walked in, and put the chicken down on the table.

"Hi, love," 

I took a seat on the bed, and she held me.

"Hi, my love. It's good to see you again," she said weakly. The intravenous line was attached to her arm, purple and black from daily infusions.

"How are you feeling?" 

It was an empty question. We both knew that the end was near. Close enough for Death herself to be sitting in the chair by the room. 

"I'm feeling better, ever so slightly. That's because of you," she said. Her charm and wit were things even sickness could not take away. 

I smiled, and kissed her on the forehead.

I opened the fried chicken packet up, and showed it to her. She couldn't eat much solid food anymore, really. 

"I actually got you to buy it for yourself," she smirked. 

"I know you did, precisely why I bought Spicy."

"You dog you," 

Claire had hated spicy food ever since a child. I had really bought Original Recipe chicken, in the hopes that she could actually eat and swallow the food down. How I prayed to a God I had forsaken so much, that Claire could just get up from bed easily and come home with me.

Her legs were nearly gone too. 

I replaced the packet on the bed-side table.

"Do you want to go out to see the sunset?" I asked.

Claire nodded weakly. I went to get the wheelchair from the corner of the room, and helped her into it.

_________________________

_"I'm Charlie. Nice to meet you," I said rather formally. I shook the gothic-lolita's hand. She seemed really pretty, even under all that make-up. Of course, my own heart was pounding against my chest. I was nervous. So nervous for that first date._

_"I'm Claire, and I really like this outfit."_

_She seemed rather quirky. I wonder what exactly my brother had in mind when he set me up with this girl. She seemed so hyper and filled with this energy. How was she a fit to me??_

_"So, Frankie told me you REALLY like Futurama?"_

_"I DO. I loved how they ended the series with Fry and Leela!"_

_And that was how we both ended up hanging out so much. A simple conversation about Futurama, a science-fiction animation._

________________________  
  


"The city looks so beautiful."

She said so simply. We were both atop a hill, overlooking the city skyline in the sunset. So much of the skyline had changed in the 30 years together. I locked her wheelchair to prevent her from rolling down.

"I'm sorry I'm so heavy to push, you're getting older." 

"Nonsense. You're still as light as you always were," I said.

I then took a seat in the grass beside her.

"Do you remember when we first met, Charlie?" She asked.

I did remember. I could never forget her Gothic Lolita outfit. I remember how my heart pounded when I was with her that day. That was nearly 30 years ago.

"I do remember. I was so nervous, my palms were so sweaty!"

"They were. You jumped when I reached for your hand!"

I remember that. She held my hand, and I could remember how ecstatic I was.

So many memories I made with this woman. With my partner, and how fleeting it all seemed now.

______________________  
  
 _We had been trying to have children for a long time, until one day, we got a call from the gynaecologist. Perhaps it was time for the artificial insemination._

_"Claire and Charlie Tan!" She said to the receptionist, and we were both ushered into the Doctor's office._

_She was as happy and excited as she was that day we got our own house keys._

_How the mood shifted._

_"I'm sorry, Mrs Tan," were the only words I heard from the Doctor. The only words that actually sunk in._

_"It's terminal."_

________________________

Tears streamed from her eyes, as she sat in that wheelchair.

I opened my mouth to say something, and she shook her head.

"No, you don't understand, I love you so much, and I wish... I just wished we had longer."

"No, it's okay sweetie, really. I feel the same, but I."

I was at a loss for words.

"I want you to be happy. Please be happy when I'm gone?"

What an impossibility she asked of me.

There was a palpable silence for a good moment.

"I love you, Charlie. I love you."

She then sat back on her wheelchair. Her breathing slowed. She sputtered.

____________________

_We both laid down on a nice mat on the grass._

_A beautiful night sky with stars all around. The perfect setting for a kiss._

_She was beside me, wearing a beautiful sundress. We held hands as we pointed out all the constellations above us. Orion's Belt was the most prominent._

_Until we both sat up._

_We kissed, and there seemed to be fireworks. I loved this woman._

_"I love you," said Claire. So simply, and sweetly._

_____________________

"I love you too, Claire." 

Her breathing didn't improve. She smiled as if telling me that it was going to be okay, and I kissed her on the forehead, then on the lips. I held her tight to my chest, it was the end.

"Goodbye."

My tears flowed, and for the first time in so long, I felt alone.


	2. Vulnerable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ann had never felt so empty before. Until she meets this amazing guy.

Blah Blah blah blah place holder


	3. The Casket.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Constance and Domovoi are two extremely close friends who once dated. Constance dies one day, and Domovoi reflect upon her casket, to send her off.

"We are all fragile beings, Dom"

I remember thinking that throughout the service, or when I got her bequeathments-her diary and her notebooks filled with pages upon pages of plots and plans and stories.

Her words as gentle as her touch.

It takes a single negative belief to permeate and penetrate.

For it to get to your very being, and take effect on your will. How simple it is to take a belief and just let it control you so utterly and completely. I know that pain all too well. I know that feeling too closely. I saw that happen to Constance, and it will forever haunt me. Did I lead her into that descent? Did I lead her into that path?

_____________________________

"Hi, I'm Domovoi, nice to meet you!" I extended a hand.

I tried to be as warm as possible.

This was a writing convention, filled with a whole bunch of writers. All of them seemed nice, at least. I guess...in a way,  I was drawn to her.

She shook my hand, and smiled. She brushed her auburn hair aside.

"I'm Constance."

"So what do you write?" I asked. She seemed really sweet, perhaps she wrote bubblegum pop romance of some sort?

"I write...Horror," she laughed uneasily. She was shy about that fact.

"You didn't seem like it!"

_____________________________

I was dressed in a simple black shirt, and similarly dark pants and shoes. I was formally dressed. 

I did the traditional walk-around the casket. I noticed the ornate design about it--it was adorned with tiny little figurines of phoenixes. Your own personal sign, no doubt a personal request in your last notes. The fire bird of life, death and rebirth. 

Why did you want to be reborn? I walked around, and saw your face. You seemed as sweet and perfect as the day I met you. You were just sleeping, right? 

Then came my turn to stay at the opening. To say a last word, or a prayer, perhaps.

"Why?" was all I heard myself say at that point. I knew I would do another walk-around. I had way more to say, but for now, that was all.

That summed up a lot of how I was feeling since I got the news of your passing.

_____________________________

I was dressed in a simple black shirt, and jeans and shoes. I admit, I didn't know what to expect. We've been dating for a few months at that time, and you said that you wanted to bring me out for my birthday.

"Well hon, I want you to wear something nice, we're going to eat good today!" That was all you said in the text. We didn't tend to text as much as other couples. We liked our own privacy. We liked being able to shut up and lock ourselves in our own rooms to work on what we were doing, without the other interrupting. Of course, it was much better when we were locked up together. 

We met up, and we entered this really nice looking Japanese place. It looked traditional, and the food came out rapidly. Some of the freshest sushi that I've seen. We ate and chatted as we usually did.

We paid the bill, and we took a walk. We held hands, and when we reached a bench, we sat down.

I heard myself saying--

"I love you, Constance."

She seemed to be a bit taken aback by me saying the 3 words. I guess it was meant to be a big deal, but I was feeling good.

She kissed me, a bit quickly, and roughly, but it was good. I kissed back, and we kept at it.

"I love you too." she whispered.

I held her. Unaware of what was to come.

_____________________________

"We are gathered here to celebrate our friend, Constance Tan. She was an amazing person, and she is now with our Lord," said the pastor priest guy. I really never got to know the exact names of each position in the Church, but I couldn't help but to retain a bit of snark at the idea of a person of the church leading the service. 

Constance never really took much heed to any religion, even if she were raised in a Christian household.

Seated all around me were old friends, old adversaries. People who hated that I held such a big pull on Constance. People who loved that I cared about her even to the end. People who I missed, and people who I avoided.

There was so much story and background to any one person's life, that a funeral seemed to try and tell a story too big for the premises. 

After the pastor priest type guy finished speaking, he passed the microphone to Constance's family. They said the standard goodbyes to their daughter, sister and aunt, and 'thank you's to everyone present for being here. Though I didn't see the need to thank some one coming. It was honestly more of a duty than a task to be done, attending a goodbye to a friend.

Finally, it came to my turn. Constance's Mother had arranged for me to speak after the family. She always did welcome my presence in their lives, and I was grateful for the gesture.

"Constance was an amazing person, definitely so. She was always bright, but she was plagued with depression. She was plagued with this painful disease, which made its presence known in more intangible forms than the most painful cancers. It made its effect felt in a room more than the most contagious flu, and it was a terrifying experience to see someone I knew and loved so much, be finally consumed by it."

I sipped a bit of water. Perhaps I said too much? I had to continue.

"Constance was a very close friend to me, and also much more. She was my girlfriend, and I loved her in a time of my life I didn't believe I could be capable of such a selfless emotion."

Their eyes, all on me. Their tears flowed. 

I looked back to the casket behind me. A single tear flowed from my eye, streaking down quickly down my cheek, reaching my chin.

"I remember that I had one last conversation with her before she did it. I comforted her, and told her that she meant the world to me."

I was losing my composure. I was slowly losing what made me a terrific speaker in front of crowds.

"I told her I loved her."

I heard audible sobs from the group. The group of many mutual friends and of her family. We were bound by a shared loss.

"I will always remember her as her namesake. A constant, everlasting memory, and I'd just finish off by saying this. She was a person who was a near unbreakable constant of our lives, and her loss is that of great, and terrible tragedy.'

I wiped my tears on the sleeve of my shirt. The same shirt I wore all that time ago.

"We will move on. We will fight. We will all cry our eyes out, but what matters most is that she will stay in our hearts. A constant reminder of the woman she was. A woman that she still is in my memory. Thank you."

I stepped off the small podium. 

_____________________________

"Dom, I can't take this."

Constance's voice shook. We had broken up not too long ago, and it hadn't been good on her, but I couldn't take it. I had broken up with her because I couldn't take her outbursts.

"You can. I'm sorry we're not together, but I'm here. I'm here with you, and I'll never stop looking out for you."

"Please. Just come over, and hold me like we used to."

I can't. 

"But we're not together. I'm sorry, Constance, but we can't be together again."

"Then, there's...there's not much left for me."

There was silence on the phone.

"You're a terrible person." She whispered, before hanging up.

_____________________________

I was at work, the next day. I got a call.

"Domovoi?" It was Constance's brother.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Constance...Constance's..." 

There was no real need to hear the rest of his sentence.

I took urgent leave, and rushed my way to the hospital he said.

_____________________________

I took one last walk around her casket, and took off my ankh.

It was a gift from Constance, a long time ago, and I wore it around my neck nearly everyday.

I left it on the glass above her.

"I'll never fail again. I'll never fail again like this." I whispered.

I left the funeral parlour. It was drizzling lightly.

 


	4. What she is.

She makes me feel good. The same way a good book makes you feel a sad sense of accomplishment and happiness. The same way you feel when you walk out of an extraordinary film, tear-stained by a particularly well written scene. Her face, tanned and beautifully featured, on my mind. She feels like the perfect prologue that leaves you wanting to keep turning the pages of a book. I am confident.

Like a book, she's filled with conflict and climax. She's riddled with syntax and context. Perhaps a book written in a simple and straightforward manner, but a book with a gripping plot and delightful characters. I'm only on the first chapter, but I want to keep going. I want to see where this character will bring the reader. Where is this delightful tome bringing me? I turn the pages, only to feel even more. I am anew.

Her energy was what got me. She's powered by an infectious energy that got me feeling so much better than I've felt in what seems like forever. She spurs me on to be a lot better than what I am, and reminds me of a youthful love. Love that seemed so impossible for me. I feel myself lost for words.

Her depth drew me in. There were so many flaws to this beautiful landscape, but that's what made it realistic. She was a vividly coloured crag, marred by eons of erosion. The rocks slowly rolled down her, and into the shimmering glens and the vast forests below. Perhaps not as structured, but every bit as awe-inspiring as her neighbours. I am lost in her.

She's a star, sparkling and blazing so far away. Yet a firefly that dances around so close by. I am looking at the light.

She's a song, tangible only to the aural. Lyrics comprehensible only to me, and a melody only enjoyed by the people who truly understand. Her aura oh-so-amazing, a glow of warmth and comfort in a world of pain and neglect. I feel safe.

Her smile, a simple gesture yet so beautiful. 

She's a possibility, in a realm of chance and dice. The perfect 20 roll to a Tabletop-Role-Playing Gamer. 

And here I am, waiting for the next chapter. The next page. The next word, even.

Just to see how the story plays out. I am satisfied.

I am happy.


	5. Happy

Nothing could dampen his mood today. Not a weird angmoh passenger, not a Chinese National who spoke no English, No.

 

Today was the Mr. Tan's day. After all those months and years of slogging, it all finally paid off.

 

He saw a potential customer by the side of the road, a chinese lad dressed in black. There seemed to be something sombre about the way he carried himself. He stopped for him, and the young man got in.

 

"Where to?" Tan said. He tried to remain jovial, but there was something about the mood. This boy was in mourning, of some sort.

 

"Mount Vernon, thanks."

 

Tan fell silent. Mount Vernon was the local funeral service hall. Funeral services in Singapore were held underneath the blocks of flats, and when they're not, Mount Vernon was a common choice. There was a certain privacy to be had at Mount Vernon that obviously couldn't be gotten from the public void decks.

 

Honestly, Tan hated to drive to Mount Vernon. It wasn't that he was a particularly superstitious fellow, but he never liked the vibe he got from the place. He did not have particularly close relatives interred within the columbarium.

 

"Have you ever lost someone close to you, Uncle?"

 

Tan was startled for a moment, before he remembered that it was his passenger. His voice was husky, and affected by a sore throat.

 

"I nearly did."

 

Tan had nearly lost his daughter to cancer. He had been divorced from his wife for 2 years now, and while they weren't as estranged as they used to be, it was still a void in his life. He had never thought he would be come a 'Taxi Uncle'. Then the recession of 2013 hit, and hit hard. He was laid off from his job as Operations Manager at a Company.

 

"Did it feel like this?"

 

The Taxi stopped at a traffic light. Tan looked back, and saw the boy with tears shimmering from his eyes.

 

"My daughter nearly died. She choked so hard from the growth, that I truly thought it was the end."

 

Tan was a plain-spoken man. He had never completed his 'O' Levels. He just spoke his mind.

 

"My world was darkened since her diagnosis, and today's the day I'm bringing her to Universal Studios."

 

"Why U.S.S?" asked the boy. He choked back his tears and produced a feeble laugh.

 

"I promised Britt. I'm not a rich man, but a promise is a promise."

 

They both rode in silence, and Tan pulled up to the Funeral Halls.

 

The boy reached for his wallet, but Tan pushed the button to end the ride.

 

"You've been having a terrible day. I don't know your story kid, but this ride's on me."

 

"Thanks," the boy muttered.

 

He alighted, and Tan was on his way. He was a little happier, he couldn't wait to see his daughter again.


End file.
